


Facing... Death?

by NuMo



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuMo/pseuds/NuMo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a drabble, so far; a plot bunny, if that. There are some more ideas for the story lurking in that mess of a mind of mine; maybe they'll come out play yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

THIS IS HIGHLY IRREGULAR. The being’s words arrived in Janeway’s mind without – _seemingly_ , her thoughts inserted – passing through her ears.

“I beg your pardon?”

YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE. 

“Well, I certainly agree.” She cast a look around herself. A desert, or something similar. Cool black sand, sand that seemed brilliantly lit even though no source of light was discernible, stretched as far as her eyes could see, and a sky with cold, unfamiliar stars curved above them. The figure next to her was just as strange, tall and featureless except for its black robe. Its voice, and the way it entered her mind, felt just this side of nightmarish, but Janeway refused to give in to that. “So how do I get back?”

YOU DO NOT GET BACK. YOU ARE DEAD. 

“I’m not. I’m breathing, I have a pulse. I am not dead.” Was this another attempt of that… monster of an alien, or another one of its kind?

HABIT, the leaden voice intoned. 

“What?” Janeway frowned. “Look, there’s got to be a mistake. You said yourself this was irregular. I’m certain we can clear it up.” She drew herself up. “My name is Kathryn Janeway. I am captain of the Federation starship Voyager. Whom am I addressing, please?”

The figure seemed to turn – _hadn’t it been looking at me before? And if not, why not?_ – and an opening of the hood became visible, as well as two wide sleeves. That, in itself, was not so bad. The fingers that rose from those sleeves to flip back the hood, though-

I AM DEATH.

“Death.” Janeway’s voice dripped with sarcasm despite what her eyes saw. She had seen worse, after all. A mere human skeleton, even if it was six feet tall, couldn’t frighten her.

I USHER SOULS INTO THE NEXT WORLD. I AM THE GRAVE OF ALL HOPE. I AM THE ULTIMATE REALITY. I AM THE ASSASSIN AGAINST WHOM NO LOCK WILL HOLD.

“Well, yes, I get your point, but you can’t be death.”

WHY NOT? The voice sounded surprised.

“Because death is a fact of life. Not a person.” She smiled a terse smile. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that this is afterlife.”

YES. 

“But of course.” She threw up her hands. “Look, Mister…”

DEATH.

“I can’t call you that,” she shot at him, biting her tongue in order not to yell.

EVERYONE ELSE DOES, he shrugged. EXCEPT FOR A BRIEF INTERLUDE WHEN I WAS KNOWN AS BILL DOOR.

“Bill Door.” _Good grief_.

YES.

“Look, Mister… Door, then, can you point me to the nearest city? Somewhere where I can find scientists?”

I CAN’T. I’M SORRY. AS I SAID, THIS IS HIGHLY IRREGULAR. He turned his head sideways, as though hearing something Janeway couldn’t. AH YES, he continued slowly, AN INTERESTING PARADIGM. He looked back at her with those blue pinpoints glowing in his skeletal eye-sockets, and reached out bony fingers. COME WITH ME.


	2. Chapter 2

Walking across the strange black sand, Janeway felt oddly buoyant. Well, if hell was other people, an afterlife that consisted of a lonely desert – _oh, get your act together, Janeway, this is not the afterlife, even if it doesn’t come with a hallucination of your father attached_. 

WE ARE HERE.

“Where?” She hadn’t been paying attention, so the small figure sitting on the sand took her by surprise. Even more so when it turned and looked up at them.

“Have you found someone who can help me get away from here?” Kathryn Janeway’s jaw dropped as she recognized the voice as well as the face. Alright, so that thunderstorm had been bad, but she’d survived, hadn’t she?

The hooded skeleton looked at her impassively. YOU ARE AWARE OF WHAT IS CALLED THE TROUSERS OF TIME?

“Yes. It’s an imprecise metaphor for-” 

IN TIME, YOU WILL SEE YOU WERE WRONG. And with that reassuring statement, the tall, hooded skeleton vanished, leaving Janeway to stare at a twelve-year-old version of her.

“I’m Kathryn Janeway,” the girl extended her hand, “pleased to meet you.”

“Well, so am I,” Janeway said weakly, “on both accounts.”


	3. Chapter 3

She’d never felt particularly good with children, and meeting her twelve year old self was… somewhat irritating. More so because Janeway had no intention to reveal just who she was – maybe they were both here because of some phenomenon, and not dead at all, and might return at any time. She couldn’t go spouting stories about Starfleet and captaincies, nor could she warn about… she gritted her teeth. She’d introduced herself as Kate, for the time being, and had tried to get information as to where they were and how her younger self might have arrived here, but so far, nothing made any sense whatsoever.

She herself had been about to beam up from an M-class planet where they’d taken on supplies – nothing out of the ordinary, so much so that her first officer had joked about them flying in circles, which would have given her a laughing fit if they hadn’t been on the bridge. Chakotay lecturing anyone on steering? Oh, he was an able helmsman, but if anyone would ever manage to fly _Voyager_ in circles, it was him, wasn’t it?

So, there didn’t seem to be any parallels between her story and young Kathryn’s. There certainly hadn’t been a thunderstorm where she had been, and the planet patently hadn’t been Earth. So, after exhausting those lanes of conversation, she’d sat down besides young Kathryn and had tried to cheer her up by telling stories. Not that young Kathryn had needed it much; she was far more curious than frightened. Still, the featureless desert seemed to spook her.

“What’s going on here?” 

Janeway shot up from the sand, coming face to face with- “Which year are you from?” she hissed, trying to indicate with a look that the answer needed to be pitched for her ears alone.

“What? Twenty-three seventy-two,” the bunned Kathryn Janeway answered.

“Stardate?” Janeway pressed.

“49548.5, last time I looked,” her other- _younger_ self replied, frowning. “Look, what’s-”

“There’s two of you?” younger Kathryn asks, eyes narrowing. “Are you twins? You don’t look like twins. What’s going on? Kate?”

“Don’t worry, Kathryn, we’ll figure it out,” Janeway replies. _If we don’t run out of names and ideas for identities first_.

“Hey, I’m twelve, not five. The only difference between the two of you is your hairstyle; I want to know what’s happening, and I want to get back to where I belong, in that order.”

“Sassy, aren’t you,” Janeway murmurs. 

“She’s got a point, though,” her younger self replies. 

“And ears to hear, you know,” her even younger self adds, voice jumping an octave but mouth set in a flat line. 

“Oh I hated when that happened,” the other Janeway sighs. “Alright. It seems obvious we’re from different points in our lives-”

“What?” Young Kathryn stares at her in shock. Then her face brightens into a brilliant smile. “I’m going to be a starship captain?”

“Oh, _very_ well done,” Janeway grates at her younger self. 

“Well, what would you suggest we do, _Kate_? If three of us are already here, more might be on the way, and it doesn’t take a scientist to figure out from where.” A chin juts in a very familiar way. “She’s twelve, Kathryn. Remember the things we knew and understood at twelve?”

“Yes, but-”

“What’s going on here?” Two pairs of eyes roll simultaneously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intend to have our esteemed Captain face not only Death, but selves of her who nearly died, died in other timelines, things like that. I don't remember Voyager all too well, so if that plot bunny tickles your mind, too, post a comment which Janeway you'd like to appear, too, and I'll see what I can do.


End file.
